Imperfect
by Oswald-Girl
Summary: Blaine did not expect his boyfriend to be shirtless when he arrived to pick up Kurt for their date. He also did not expect that Kurt would be covered in scars... Mentions of self harm.


Title: Imperfect  
>Author: Oswald-Girl<br>Characters: Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson  
>Time: Sometime between Original Song and A Night of Neglect<br>Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance  
>Rating: T<br>Warning: Mentions of self harm. Nothing graphic, but if that bothers you, well, you have been warned.  
>Note: In this story, both Kurt and Blaine are boarding at Dalton; I understand that is not canon, but oh well.<br>Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Imperfect<strong>

_Well, this is… unexpected._

Blaine was early, and he knew it, but he had a date with his boyfriend that evening and he may have been a little eager. The door to Kurt's dorm was open just enough for Blaine to see inside. Kurt was bent over, rummaging through one of his drawers. His back was turned to Blaine, giving the other boy a spectacular view of Kurt's rear end, but that was not what interested Blaine the most. No, Blaine was far more fascinated by the fact that his boyfriend was not yet wearing a shirt. Well, that was not exactly it. Blaine was surprised by the fact that Kurt's back was covered in scars.

"Kurt?" he asked tentatively, pushing the door open the rest of the way.

The other boy spun around in surprise. "Oh, Blaine!" he was blushing furiously, having been caught unawares.

Blaine did not say anything, fighting to keep his eyes on his boyfriend's face, but his bare chest was distracting. His gaze kept flickering down to it, taking in the sight of pale skin that was marked by just as many scars as his back.

That was about when Kurt remembered he was, in fact, standing shirtless in front of his boyfriend. Horrified, he turned back to his dresser and pulled on the first shirt he found. He was clearly distressed about Blaine seeing him without a shirt, as he did not even pause to see if what he pulled on matched the rest of his attire—which it did not.

"I—I'm sorry, I didn't… oh, god," the countertenor gasped.

"Kurt, don't apologize."

"I didn't want you to see… that." Blaine knew the other boy had meant the scars dotting his skin.

"I'm sorry that it made you uncomfortable."

"You probably think I'm disgusting right now."

Blaine frowned. "Why would I ever think that?"

Kurt let out a sarcastic, humorless laugh. "You didn't see?"

"Wha—what happened?" He was met with only silence. "You don't have to tell me if it makes you more uncomfortable. We can forget this ever happened and—"

"No, no I'll tell you," Kurt reached around himself to remove the hastily thrown on shirt and tossed it aside, not caring where it landed. "I'm sure you guessed: most of these are from McKinley."

"Most?"

"Well, this one," he pointed to a particularly long, but nearly faded, jagged line across his entire chest. "I got in the car accident that took Mom."

Blaine stepped closer hesitantly. Kurt didn't seem to notice.

"And this," Kurt continued, running his index finger along a short mark on his upper arm. "Is from a rather nasty fall from a tree when I was six and landed on a piece of glass."

"What were you doing in a tree?" Blaine struggled to suppress a laugh.

"I was climbing it, of course." He said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It probably should have been. "Blaine Anderson, even at six years old, I was not so delicate as to shy away from climbing a tree like any normal kid."

"But you hate getting dirty,"

"I didn't like dirt; trees were fine."

"Alright, alright?" he put his hands up in surrender, a few giggles escaping. Kurt just glared, but it was a kind of playful glare. Or at least, it did not look as though Kurt was genuinely mad at him. "So you fell out of a tree. What about this one?"

Blaine reached his hand out to trace a smaller scar on his boyfriend's left shoulder, but he stopped himself from making contact at the last moment. His eyes flickered to Kurt's with a question and an apology written across his face and his hand still hovering over the other boy's pale skin.

"It's okay," Kurt murmured. "You can touch, I don't mind. I trust you."

Blaine smiled softly, and moved his hand to caress his boyfriend's cheek lovingly instead. He pressed a soft kiss to Kurt's forehead. The countertenor colored slightly.

"To answer your question I don't actually remember where that's from. Probably something I picked up working in my dad's garage, but it's a mystery, I guess." Kurt joked and watched Blaine's mouth twisted into a grin. He picked up his curly haired boyfriend's hand and placed it over a scar on his lower abdomen. "That was from when I got my appendix taken out a few years ago."

Blaine moved his hand from the scar Kurt had just told him about to a collection of small scars just above the top of Kurt's skinny jeans that he had just noticed. He looked back up at Kurt. "And these?"

"Those um… well, you know things got pretty bad… at school and all…" Kurt refused to meet his eyes. "And, well, Dad was more likely to notice if I cut my wrists."

Blaine's heart stopped. "Kurt?"

"I stopped, if that's what you're worried about, alright?"

"You… you did this to yourself… _on purpose?"_ Blaine could hardly believe what he was hearing. Kurt still looked away, but Blaine carefully grabbed his chin and directed Kurt's head toward him. "Kurt, please look at me." He said softly. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"You know what. Why would you do this to yourself?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

There was such finality in the countertenor's tone that Blaine almost conceded to allow the topic to be dropped. _Almost._

"Fine, we don't have to talk about it now." He decided. "But I hope you'll let me in soon. When you're ready,"

Kurt said nothing, but his eyes conveyed his gratitude. Blaine smiled softly. "And I hope you know how precious you are. Really, I never thought someone like you could exist. You are so caring and sweet and gentle and brave and smart and talented and beautiful."

"I certainly don't feel beautiful right now." He muttered.

"Kurt, you are beautiful," Blaine insisted. "Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise."

"But—"

"No 'buts,'" He kissed his boyfriend's cheek. "I mean it."

Kurt kept his gaze firmly on the ground, but a blush crept up his face. "Thank you. For everything,"

The comfortable silence lingered for a moment longer before Blaine spoke again. "You should probably find a shirt to match those incredibly sexy jeans of yours, or we are going to miss the movie."

"You're probably right." Kurt chuckled, not bothering to look at the clock across the room and instead leaning in to give his boyfriend a quick kiss. He pulled away and turned back to the chest of drawers. Then he paused, and glanced back at Blaine with a smirk playing on his lips. "Incredibly sexy, huh?"

"Definitely."


End file.
